


Kingslayer

by House_of_the_Lion



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Beautiful Golden Fools | Cersei/Jaime Lannister-centric, Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pre-Canon, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29594928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/House_of_the_Lion/pseuds/House_of_the_Lion
Summary: For her, he would become a Kingslayer hundreds of times...
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Kingslayer

**Author's Note:**

> This text was written as part of the session ''Kill Robert'', on the Discord server ''Fics GoT'' (Feel free to ask for the link if you want to join us!). The constraint was ''Killed by Jaime''.
> 
> He also responds to a ''cap or no cap'' launched by Black Angelis: ''Cap or not to write a fic where Robert forces Jaime to stand guard in front of his bedroom door while he enforces her conjugal duty to Cersei? (Even forces him to look if you have the faith to write that)''
> 
> Enjoy reading!

Standing in front of the black wooden door decorated with golden deer, Jaime grinds every time he hears one of his sister's groans of pain.

She is with Robert, he ordered her to come to his apartments, he wanted her, and the king always gets what he wants, always, there is nothing we can do about it.

Jaime knows what he's doing to her. He is not fooled. No one is.

Everyone knows what the king does to his queen, everyone sees the bruises on her pale skin, everyone, and yet no one says anything, no one does anything.

The king always gets what he wants, the king always does what he wants.

That's the way it is, and nobody can do anything about it.

Jaime has already offered several times to Cersei to kill him, to stick a sword in his back, or in his belly, after all, of kings, he has already killed one to save the kingdom, so what wouldn't he do to save his beloved sister, to save her from this monster who ravages her night after night, who has already taken so much from her, although she doesn't show it.

And yet, each time, she refused.

She doesn't want, doesn't want him to perjure himself again, doesn't want the whispering behind his back when he passes to redouble, he is already called Kingslayer, not in front of him, of course, no one is crazy enough, or reckless enough to risk calling him that to his face, even if he is enslaved by the deer, the lion always has claws, always, and vultures are nothing, next to lions, nor vipers.

She doesn't want that for him, so she lets herself be mistreated, she lets herself be raped, she lets herself be ransacked so that Jaime stops wincing every time he hears that remark, that nickname he hates.

Jaime is about to get caught up in her thoughts, but he's pulling himself together, he has no right, he has no right to let himself go, not when Cersei is inside, being raped, being slaughtered, He has to stay there, he has to stay with her, he is with her, there is only a wall between them, just a wall, he could go in, he could finally get rid of that pig, he could run away with Cersei, just the two of them, or with Tyrion, maybe.

He takes a deep breath, puts his hand on the pommel of his sword, he is ready, he has never been so ready, he thinks of the blue, purple, red, green, yellow diamonds that decorate Cersei's white skin, he is about to do it, he is about to do it.

When the door opens right next to him, before his fingers have had time to grasp the handle and operate it, he enters, bursts in, and Robert, his face red, drunk with wine and anger, walks through the door, half undressed.

The deer roars, almost as one would expect to hear it from a lion:

"Kingslayer !''

Jaime looks at it without saying anything, not wanting to please the king by recognizing the nickname, which he abhors, almost as much as he abhors the boar that gave it to him.

He notices that his eye is beginning to swell, he almost wants to smile, he knows what has happened to him, of course he knows.

Robert tried to make Cersei respect her conjugal duty, and she obviously didn't let him.

He is trying to prevent his arrogant smile from forming on her lips, if he smiles, it is Cersei who will pay the consequences.

''Come into this room immediately...''

He obeys his king, always without saying anything, but with this furious desire to smile.

Cersei is on the bed, completely naked, her tangled hair is the only thing that hides her breasts from Jaime's view, her cheeks are red, she has struggled, it shows.

Jaime's desire to smile fades away when he sees a purple handprint on her throat.

He understands.

That's why Cersei hit Robert.

Robert tried to strangle her.

Jaime doesn't want to smile anymore.

The only thing he wants now is to throw himself on the king, to throw himself on him, and kill him immediately, he deserves nothing else, nothing.

But the sight of other knights of the Kingsguard prevents him from doing so.

He could flee with Cersei if they were alone, but not with one of his comrades at the door.

Robert approached him, a smaller head, but much larger than him.

He stood in front of him, blue eyes in green eyes, and told him in a clear voice, but trembling with anger, and perhaps even a hint of humiliation, that he had been beaten like that by a woman, by his wife :

''You're going to hold the your whore of a sister, and make sure she doesn't move while I take care of her...''.

Jaime can't believe his ears.

He can't do this, he can't...

If he did that, it would be as if he was raping Cersei himself, and he can't bring himself to do that.

He looks at her, and she gives him a discreet nod.

She has no choice, he has no choice, they have no choice, and they both know it.

The lions are prisoners of the deer.

Jaime stands towards the headboard, and holds Cersei's wrists, as Robert has told him.

Cersei holds back from crying, he sees it, and he would like to hold back, he too, he has to be strong, for him, for her, especially for her, for Cersei, but he can't do it, his tears are running down his cheeks, he shouldn't have to do this, Cersei shouldn't have to do this, it's not right, it's not fair, and yet, here they are.

While Robert is slumping over her, crushing her with all his weight, he lets go of her wrist, holds her hand, rather, she's squeezing it, like when she gave birth to Joffrey a few months before, he's stroking her hair, it's not normal, Robert has no right, he has no right to touch her like that, to abuse her like that, and yet, he doesn't deprive himself of it.

Cersei's tears run down her cheeks in turn, silent, as always, she is suffering, he sees it, and he can do nothing, nothing at all, he participates in her suffering, the lions are prisoners of the deer, he has no choice, she has no choice.

Robert reaches his peak shortly afterwards, the wine wreaks havoc on him almost as much as Robert himself does on Cersei, he bites her collarbone violently as it pours into her, before retiring and wiping the vile seed and the golden blood of the lions from his virility on Cersei's white thigh already stained with scarlet.

Jaime releases Cersei, and Robert looks at her, with an air of contempt and disgust, the lions are nothing here, the crown belongs to the stag, before saying to the knight :

"Go away, both of you. I'm done with her for tonight. I don't want to see either of you here anymore.''

Jaime helps Cersei get up, Robert doesn't spare them one more look, he's had enough, green eyes and golden hair.

She has trouble walking, the pain between her legs is unimaginable, the blood keeps flowing, while Jaime takes her out of the room.

It is when they are finally in the corridor, both of them, without anyone being able to see them, that Cersei starts to cry, he takes her in his arms, unhooks his cloak and covers her with it, she is naked, and the air is fresh in the castle, she hasn't bothered to take her dress back, there is nothing left of it, Robert has torn it off without the slightest consideration, without the slightest delicacy, as usual.

oOo

They are both in Cersei's apartments, lying in her bed.

She fell asleep in his arms, her head buried in the hollow of his neck while he stroked her hair, kissing her to remind her that he loved her, by the Seven Hells, after he had helped her to wash herself, to remove all traces of her body, all those that could be removed, at least.

He watches her sleep, he is astonished at how she manages to find sleep after what has just happened to her, she will always, always astonish him, even if he knows her by heart, better than he knows himself, in reality, she is his other half, while the images keep coming back to his mind, to him, that he sees himself holding Cersei while this pig sinks into her, taking pleasure in her groans of pain, sick, he is sick, and Jaime is sick, too.

Taking care not to wake Cersei, he gets up very gently.

He doesn't ask himself any questions.

He knows exactly what he has to do.

He has always known it, deep down inside. He always has.

He should have done it long before.

As soon as he saw Cersei come out in tears from the room of that disgusting boar who called himself king after their wedding night.

As soon as he saw the first marks, the traces of bites, scratches, blows, adorning her alabaster skin, sprinkling it with colors that should never have been there, that he should never have seen here, that there should never have been here.

He doesn't care if they call him Kingslayer, he doesn't care if they take his head.

Valar Morghulis, say the people of Essos.

All men must die.

And tonight, it's Robert Baratheon's turn.

oOo

In the early morning, the bodies of the knight of the Kingsguard were found guarding the gate of the king and the king himself.

Whispers began to circulate, rumors began to spread.

No one had any idea who it could be, no one had been seen, no one had been heard.

No one had been seen, no one had been heard.

There were rumors that it was a monster, or that the king had committed suicide, or a Faceless Man, he had enemies, after all, people who wanted the end of the Baratheon Dynasty, and the return of the Targaryen.

And no one saw Jaime smile.

He knew.

He knew, and Cersei would know.

That was all that mattered.

He was Kingslayer twice.

He was Kingslayer twice, and he didn't care.

He had become a Kingslayer, a perjurer, a man without honor a second time, for Cersei.

For Cersei.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave a little review, it's always a great pleasure ^^


End file.
